by Clare Revell
1st officers log 25/09 point 17 and a little bit.
The weather has been cold and cloudy for a couple of days now. Good job we packed jumpers. Otherwise, we’d be cold. Staci and I haven’t seen any of Jim’s “sharks” so we reckon he’s seeing things. He had threatened to throw Deefer overboard to use him as bait. I’d like to see him try. Maybe we should throw him overboard instead. (Again.)
Captain’s log supplemental.
Despite what the others think, I know what I saw and have put a stop to swimming for a bit. Staci still keeps mentioning fish. We have the dinghies that we picked up in Grand Turk. Two of them. One fastened to the bridge roof and the other still boxed up on the bow. (Makes a good seat.) That one is quite clever. You literally throw it into the water and it opens itself out. Maybe I’ll take the other one out and go fishing one morning. The rate things are going the first officer is going to find herself in the brig for being rude to the Captain.
1st Officer’s log 2045 and then some.
I have nothing to say. Just wanted to wreck the log some more. It really does wind Jim up something chronic I forgot to put the date in. Oh dear, how sad, never mind. Do we care? No, we don’t, but I suppose I ought to really. It’s September 29th. But that’s not important right now. What is important is annoying Jim and defacing the logbook.
This log needs pictures in it. OK, what next.
What would really, really wind him up? i know what i could write all in small letters. i could write in lots of small letters i could leave out the punctuatuin an spel everfink rong while knot usin anyfink uver than smal letrs
OR IN CAPITALS LIKE I’M SHOUTING AGAIN WITH NO PUNCTUATION SO THAT REALLY SHOULD BE IM
Oricoulddoitwithoutspacessoitisimpossibletoread
And then there’s graffiti.
Hey, I never realized that doodling all over the log book would be so much fun. If only I had known, I would have done it months ago. What to do next? I know I’ll draw a shark. That’ll annoy him even more. Better still, I’ll do it in color. All the better to annoy him with. And on a new sheet of paper. Bwa ha ha.
I am having such fun I think I might do another one. What is the worst he could do to me? We don’t have a brig for me to spend seventy-five years in. Toss me overboard? Make me do all the cooking for a month? It would be worth it. He-he-he. If only I could see his face when he writes the next log entry. Unfortunately, he has the next shift and I shall be in bed. Oh well. On with more sharks. You know what, let’s combine his love of rainbows and sharks and make them multicolored. Jim and his technicolored dream sharks.
Perfect. Takes up the entire sheet of paper so it is better than perfect, it’s brilliant. I didn’t give the last shark any teeth. Too late. Here comes Jim. Better go. Night. Why did I just say goodnight to the log book? I must be tired. Either that or desperate. He-he-he.
Captains log supplemental point 23.
Cross? Cross? That doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel right now. Livid is more like it. Seventy-five years in the brig is not nearly long enough. Tossing her overboard is no good because she is too good a swimmer for that. Likewise cooking. I shall think for a bit and come up with something.
Captains Log 30/09 point 04.
Thought. I shall go and wake Lou in a bit. She should’ve come up and taken over at 0200 anyway, but I reckon it’s time to go do some fishing and she has to go with me. (Lou hates fishing.) And after defacing my logbook like that she deserves it. I’ll get the dinghy off the bridge roof and then wake her up. Watch out fish. Here we come.
13
Jim crept into the girls’ cabin and shook Lou. “Wake up sleepyhead,” he whispered in an overly sweet tone.
Lou turned over and groaned. She opened her eyes. “It can’t be two o’clock already?”
“Come on. Get dressed.”
“All right. Give me a minute.”
“No way.” Jim pulled the duvet off her. “Up. Now.”
Lou yawned and sat up. Still yawning, she went up to the bridge, dressed but not sure she matched. “Sorry,” she said. “What time is it?”
“Half past four. How does fresh fish sound?”
“Very nice, but I don’t see many fish shops round here.”
“I hear the sea is well stocked at this time of year. Coming fishing?”
“We can’t leave Avon unattended, and Staci won’t want to wake up. Not this early.”
“We’ll cut the engines and let her drift. There’s nothing on the radar for miles, except fish.” He turned on the fish finder screen and it lit up like a Christmas tree. “We’ve got a line, a net and the fish. Coming?”
“You know I hate fishing.”
“Oh, yes, I do.”
“It’s still dark.”
“Not for much longer.”
“And we don’t have any bait.”
“Bought some in Grand Turk. And quit your moaning.” Jim cut the engines and Avon slowed to a stop. “She should hold her position fairly well,” he said.
They let the dinghy carefully over the side of the boat and into the water. Jim climbed down the ladder into it.
Lou passed him his rod, line and two boxes and then climbed down the ladder herself.
Pulling out the oars, Jim rowed away from Avon.
“Jim, won’t Staci panic if she wakes and finds us gone and the boat drifting?” Lou asked.
“She won’t wake for hours. We’ll be back well before then. Besides I left her a note.” Jim replied confidently. He stopped rowing. “Here should do.” He set up his line and cast it over the side.
Lou settled back in the dinghy and closed her eyes. “There’s no room for me,” she complained sleepily. “Too much fishing equipment.”
“Stop moaning. Hey, wake up.”
Lou opened her eyes. “I’m sorry Jim. I’m just so tired that my eyes shut all by themselves.” She yawned. “It’s all this sea air.”
“So long as it’s not my company.”
“No. Perish the thought. You boring? Never. Not in a million years. It’s fishing. You know I detest it.”
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”
Lou sat up a bit. “I’m sorry about the logbook.” She growled. Then, she took in his irritated glare. “Jim, can we talk?”
“I thought that’s what we were doing.”
“I mean really talk. Please?”
“Sure,” Jim said, looking intently at her. “What’s on your mind?”
“Well first, what will we do when we get to the Philippines?”
“What do you mean?”
“We don’t have visas and as they check passports, it won’t take them long to work out who we are. We need to work out how to handle it, what to do.”
Jim tilted his head slightly. “I know. Honestly we’ve wasted so much time going this way, I wish I’d flown.”
Lou pulled a face. “Hey, you caught one.”
Jim reeled it in and put it in one of the boxes. He re-did his line and cast it once more. “So,” he said. “What do we do?”
“We can’t call ahead before we dock now anyway, so that will arouse their suspicions. Maybe you could slip a note inside your passport.”
Jim laughed. “What? ‘We are runaways and wish to hand ourselves in.’ Or—‘We’re searching for my parents as the authorities couldn’t be bothered’”
“Something like that. It’s just, well, no radio or phone...”
Jim brought another fish aboard. “I know what you mean. I feel like that too. More often than I thought I would.”
“I miss Mum. I was wrong to leave her.” Lou admitted quietly. “I never thought I would, you know, but I do. She’s changed so much since Dad died. She never smiles. Always worries over bills and I can never do anything right as far as she’s concerned. It just seemed like with me gone maybe she’d finally be happy, but maybe I was wrong...I don’t know. This is going to sound really silly, but I even miss being sent to bed or being grounded.”
“You’ll see her
again, just like we’ll see my parents eventually.”
The warm rays of the sun started to peep over the horizon. Everything looked warm and welcoming. Jim caught several more fish fairly quickly as Lou lay back in the boat and watched in silence.
“Say we do find my parents,” he said. “What’ll happen to Avon?”
“You and I could sail her back. There’s nothing to stop you from doing that. You’re eighteen now and legal. Let Staci fly home with your parents.”
“Staci would love that—not.”
“At least you’d know she was safe.”
Lou looked across the surface of the ocean towards the rising sun and trailed her hands in the water.
Jim smiled at her. “Trying to frighten away the fish?” he asked.
“No. Although I should. It’s a very cruel sport. Have you ever considered the implications, the pain that that hook of yours inflicts on those poor defenseless fish? Especially the ones you throw back. Maybe I should report you to the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Fi....” Her voice tailed off as her attention was caught by something slicing through the water. “Jim.”
He looked across at her. “What’s the matter?”
“Look,” she said pointing.
“Can’t see anything.”
“Look there. It’s coming towards us.”
Jim followed her gaze and saw what she’d seen. Moving towards them was a black triangle.
“Shark,” he said.
He threw the line into the rubber dinghy and began to row. They had drifted some way from Avon.
“I didn’t believe you. I’m sorry.” Lou bit her lip as her heart rate tripled.
Jim gritted his teeth. “Never mind,” he muttered, rowing for all he was worth. He looked over his shoulder. Moving one oar, he swung the dinghy round so he was heading in the right direction.
The shark was getting closer.
Jim rowed fast, but the gap between them and the shark decreased faster than he could row.
Staci appeared on deck. “Are you enjoying yourselves?” she called.
“Don’t be silly,” Lou shouted. “Shark.”
“Not you, too,” Staci sighed. “One of you is bad enough.”
Lou whirled round, making the dingy wobble. The shark had dropped back. It vanished beneath the water. “Jim, it’s gone.” She grabbed one of the oars from Jim and helped him row.
From Avon’s deck, Staci called, “I see no shark. You two are seeing things.”
Deefer barked louder and louder and tried to jump over the side of Avon.
“Stop it.” Staci said.
The shark surfaced and sped towards the dinghy.
Lou screamed as the shark rammed them, almost sending them over.
Staci looked up and saw the dinghy rocking. “Don’t rock the boat,” she laughed. The laughter died.
The black triangle sliced through the water for another attack.
The dinghy rocked again and Jim lost an oar. He groaned.
The shark disappeared.
“It’s gone,” Staci called.
Lou relaxed slightly but a minute later the dinghy bucked up into the air.
There was a tearing sound, followed by the rush of escaping air.
Then they were up to their necks in water.
“Swim, Lou,” Jim yelled.
They both struck out at the same time.
Lou, not willing to let dinner go, grabbed the box of fish.
Jim reached Avon first and clambered up the ladder to safety. Then he turned to look for Lou. “Leave the fish,” he shouted.
“No.” Lou replied. She swam one-handed as fast as she could.
“Lou, drop the fish. Swim,” Jim yelled.
“Look out.” Staci screamed at the same time.
Lou threw herself to one side and missed the shark by inches. It turned fast and Lou felt a searing pain in her left leg. Something pulled her under the water. She struggled and the shark let go, dragging its teeth down her leg as it did so. As she surfaced, Jim, dove into the water.
Lou shut her eyes, her last sight that of the shark, coming straight for her.
The pain in her leg returned, and she screamed as strong teeth gripped her. She managed half a breath, before the water closed over her. She struggled, wasting her air on trying to get away. The shark tightened its grip, and Lou ceased her struggles as the last bit of air escaped from her lungs.
This is it. Darkness closed in around her. This is death. The thought didn’t frighten her, instead she welcomed it—anything to escape the searing pain. The shark loosened its grip as if it sensed her capitulation. Then, strong arms grasped her and pulled her upwards.
As she broke the surface, Lou breathed automatically. She opened her eyes and through a red pain-filled haze saw Jim. She tried to speak.
“Shhh,” he said. “We’re not safe yet.”
“Leave me,” Lou moaned.
“No way. You go, we go.”
“Staci the rope,” Jim yelled. As they reached Avon, Jim tied a sturdy rope around her waist and then scrambled up the ladder.
Lou was barely conscious as she was pulled out of the water.
They lifted her gently on to the deck.
Deefer pushed against her and covered her face with licks.
Lou moaned and feebly tried to push him away.
“Staci, take the dog away. Shut him in the cabins. Then get us underway.”
“But I’ve never...”
“No buts, Stace. You’ve seen me do it. Start the engines and hit the autopilot. Maximum speed.”
Deefer whined and barked in protest.
Jim turned his attention to Lou.
~*~
Amazingly, Lou was still conscious. A pool of blood had formed from her bleeding leg.
He smiled at her.
“OK,” he said, trying to sound more cheerful than he felt. “Where does it hurt?”
“Idiot,” Lou whispered. “You know where it hurts.” She moaned as the boat shuddered and started to move. Tears pricked her eyes.
Staci came across with the first aid kit. “Here,” she said. “The med-bag and kitchen scissors. Autopilot is on.”
Jim took them. “Thanks, Stace. Close your eyes, Lou, and for once in your life don’t argue.”
Lou shut her eyes. She had never known pain like this. It enveloped every pore of her being and threatened to overwhelm her.
“I need to cut away your jeans OK?”
Lou’s eyes flickered open. “Jim?”
“Yes, mate?”
“Keep going. Don’t turn back because of this.” She muttered the words.
“We have to. We’re going back.”
“Come too far to give up.”
He touched her shoulder. “I’ll be as gentle as I can.” He turned his attention to her shattered and mangled leg. “Where do I start?” he asked.
“At the top and work down,” Lou mumbled and finally her eyes closed. She was out.
Nausea rose in Jim’s throat as he worked. Lou’s leg was a mess. The shark had taken out a huge chunk of thigh and left multiple teeth marks and tear marks. Below the knee was a different story altogether. It looked like the leg had almost been bitten through.
He steeled himself and touched her foot. Incredibly, it was still warm. He looked at Staci. “Kiddo, see if you can find me something to splint this with. There should be some wood in the cargo hold. I kept some of the old broken decking. And see if there’s any whisky or something. You know where Dad puts it. I can use it to sterilize stuff. Check the bridge too, will you?”
Staci nodded and headed inside.
Jim closed his eyes. “Help me, Lord,” he prayed. “I’m no surgeon, You know that. Guide my hands that I may do more good than harm.” Opening his eyes, he ripped open another packet of saline and continued to irrigate the wounds. Then he began to try and piece the torn flesh together
Staci came back with three pieces of wood and the bottle. “Here,” she said. “How ar
e you doing?”
“Don’t ask, Stace. I have no idea what I’m doing. I need to set this somehow. She needs a doctor.”
“We both know that’s not possible. So does Lou. Just do your best to keep her alive until we can land. Then we’ll find a doctor.”
Jim nodded. “See if there is anything in the bag to stitch with.” He gritted his teeth and maneuvered Lou’s leg until the cuts were aligned as best he could. Then he tipped half the whiskey over it. Not ideal, but it’d do in a pinch.
Staci shook her head. “No, nothing.”
“OK. I really can’t sew anyway. I need all the gauze and bandages and cotton wool you can find. Rip sheets into strips if need be.” Jim pulled the torn flesh together by hand. Staci passed across all the gauze and helped Jim cover Lou’s leg. Next, they wrapped cotton wool round it and then bandaged it.
Having done that Jim laid the biggest piece of decking under her leg and put the other two on either side.
Staci came out with three sheets and ripped them into strips while he used them to fasten the splints to Lou’s leg.
“I’ll go grab her nightie so you can get her changed, Stace.” He handed her the scissors. “It’ll be easier to cut her clothes off.”
Moments later as his sister removed Lou’s wet and bloody clothing, he looked up at the heavens. “I’ve done all I can,” he said. “She’s in God’s hands now.” God, I really messed up here. Please, take care of her. Don’t let her die. I just want her to open her eyes and crack one of her awful jokes and tease me again. Please, don’t let her die.
“Shall I help you get her below deck?”
“I can carry her. Will turn down the duvet and put some towels in there to catch this blood. We’ll have to use your bed, so her leg isn’t next to the wall. Is that OK?”
“Sure.”
Staci ran on ahead. Jim scooped Lou up in his arms, grateful that she was still out of it. He went into the galley and realized the steps would be impossible alone. “Staci? I need a hand.”
“Thought you might.”
Between them, they managed to get Lou down the stairs and into the cabin. They laid her gently on Staci’s bed.
Deefer, still shut in Jim’s cabin, whined and scratched at the door.